Unsub (Spencer ReidxReader)

11

There was blood. A good amount of blood. It stained the once pure pink comforter a rustic red. It carved paths down the grey walls like dripping paint. Even pieces of the shattered mirror had their corned dipped in the red liquid.

"How much?" Morgan called, standing by the door frame.
You pulled your attention away from the mirror and gazed at the carpet. It had small puddles of blood every few feet. Finally you met Morgan's intense gaze.
"Not enough to kill her." You informed. "She lost at least a liter of blood if not a liter and a half. Not nearly enough to kill her but loosing this much means she's probably very confused and her blood pressure and respiratory rate could elevate badly if she isn't lying down."

Morgan quirked an eyebrow, disbelief in his dark eyes. "You think she's still alive?" He almost scoffed.

"Most certainly." You quiped, pointing to the floor. "She was dragged out. If the guy wanted to kill her, why not do it here? Why go through all the trouble just to kill her somewhere else?"

"She struggled." Morgan retorted, and you followed his eye line to the shattered mirror.

"He definitely banged her against it." You agreed. "So the sister was home?"
"She said she was working at night, came back and found the room like this in the morning." Derek quoted.

"She's lying." You remarked. Bending down, you placed your gloved finger on a mirror shared, it came back with fresh blood. "This was recent. Not all the bloods dry. The sister would have heard this."

"Maybe it was before she got home?" Morgan suggested, taking a step closer.
"What kind of sister wouldn't come home and wouldn't find it suspicious that their sibling wasn't making any sound? These girls are young, they probably play music 24/7. There's no way they are completely quite." You answered, standing up.
Morgan gave you a questioning look. "You think it could've been her?"

"No, seeing as she was dragged out and fought, it couldn't have been the sister. It would take a lot of strength to control someone who put up a fight. But the sister definitely was not here until morning. Let's not waste time on that though. If this girls alive, we need to find her." You concluded.

"I'll start reaching out to friends and family. See if she had any stalkers or creeps handing around." Morgan said, leaving you alone.

You took one more look at the room. It was just what you'd expect from a normal teen. Fairy light hung above the bed, pictures of friends littered the wall, and the dresser was filled with all kinds of makeup products. If you ignored the blood, nothing seemed out of place.

It gave you an uneasy feeling so you made your way past some more forensic scientists and left the house.

*

"We're looking for a strong male. Age anywhere between 18 and 22. This man is possibly a stalker, we don't think he holds any connection to the victim but we do believe he is holding her hostage. For what purpose, we don't know. The suspect should give off uneasy vibes. He possibly holds eye contact too long. Maybe he has a camera around his neck. Being young, he can't be too experienced. So think of the cliche stalker and look for that."

You watched through the window as JJ spoke to the press. You weren't 100% sure that she had it the right way, yet you hardly knew anything about this case, so who were you to say anything. Nobody would believe you even if you did speak up. How could they? You've been on this case for less than 24 hours and all you had to go on was a gut feeling?

It seemed ridiculous but you still felt restless. You needed to speak to someone. Someone who would understand. And there's only one person who understands you.

You walked through the crowds until you were almost to the conference room. Spencer should still be there, interviewing the sister.

You were super walking by now. Completely anxious by this feeling that everyone was looking for the wrong person. Your adrenaline caused you to be almost out of breath by the time you reached the conference room door.

The handle was cold in your clammy hand but nonetheless you yanked the door open. And then you immediately shoved it closed. You turned until your back was against the door, you heavy breathing increasing as your mind ran circles around itself. Your veins burned and you heart threatened to thump until it burst. You felt actual pain.
Despite your efforts, there was no explanation for what you had seen. And because of that, you felt incredibly wrong standing there.

You didn't know what to do. Who to go to, if anyone. Only one thing registered in your mind;
You needed to get as far away as possible.

You rushed to your desk, grabbing a case file off of your desk. And then you raced out of the office, trying desperately to erase the image of that woman's lips on Spencer's.